


Crime of Consciousness

by lovethelivvi2000



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Dreams vs. Reality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Episode: s06e21 Frame of Mind, Gen, Hurt Skye | Daisy Johnson, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kid Skye | Daisy Johnson, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Past Abuse, Psychological Torture, Reality Bending, Season/Series 05, Skye | Daisy Johnson Feels, Skye | Daisy Johnson Needs a Hug, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Skye | Daisy Johnson-centric, Stream of Consciousness, Substance Abuse, Torture, Trauma, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28544733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovethelivvi2000/pseuds/lovethelivvi2000
Summary: Daisy Johnson has been kidnapped by Hyrda and is being used in a top secret plot, yet she is being followed by her psychopath ex-S.O who is supposed to be dead. As she moves between what is real and what is just made up, does Daisy even really know what's happening?(Set in season 5 after the team has all returned from space, Coulson isn't dying and that is where this story diverges from the time line. Please note this story will contain triggering content, so please read at your own risk. Will update when I can)
Relationships: Hydra Agents/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson/Melinda May, Phil Coulson/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Skye | Daisy Johnson/Grant Ward, Skye | Daisy Johnson/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	1. Picture of Frozen Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note this chapter contains mentions of self harm and may be triggering  
> (Also, as much as I love Deke, he will not appear in this fic, sorry)

I feel the familiar grip of the screwdriver in my hands, the uneven pressure of the tip as I carve and drag it across the thin film.  
It’s no longer a tranquil beach view, it’s now tainted with betrayal, hurt and suffering.  
“WARD IS HYDRA” it reads, as I give a final jab and shove the screwdriver into the corner, concealing the pain, the message, the sunset.

I jab the image over and over again, scraping the tip along the colours so it bleeds ache and hollowness.

Only I’m not carving the wall anymore, but instead the words and fake window fall and fade. I’m not carving a wall; I’m carving my arm.  
Angry red lines snake all around my wrist up to my shoulder, betrayal, hollowness, suffering, hurt and pain leak from the cuts pooling to the floor and coating my jeans, making them feel warm and sticky.

I feel my betrayal with each new line, every cut, scrape and damage I have ever caused my team. I don’t even remember how I found a blade or even when I made the first slice, all I remember is the memory of him and that night.

The blade drops from my hand making a dink sound when it hits the concrete. I’m numb, my face stoic and body still. I simply just stare at the wall in front of me, whether hours or seconds have past I just stare at it, like I’m in a trance. It’s as though someone has stripped all emotion from me and left me bare, like I’m lying naked in the snow and death is ready to claim me. 

An experience long forgotten and a memory long suppressed rises to the surface in lieu of this feeling. It plays like a movie on the wall, I’m twelve, it’s January, I watch myself walk down the sidewalk, head down and fingers red. A thin coat and ratty hat is the only thing standing between me and frost bite. I hears footsteps behind me, and I know what’s coming, but this is a memory, and I’m powerless to stop it. My knees hit the sidewalk and my face is shoved into the snow, I hear laughing and taunts, from Mark and his gang of bullies, I should have taken a different route home. I should have known they would be waiting; I should have never made myself such easy prey for him, but there I was, face first in the snow while my backpack was torn to shreds and everything I had ever owned, and I meant everything, was scattered across the street.  
As a foster kid you learned to travel light and with all your belongings because you never knew when you were going to be ripped from one placement and put in another that maybe didn’t have a toothbrush or pants your size. If you were sent back to St. Agnes, they sure as hell weren’t going to give you the right stuff either, so that’s how my underwear was being paraded around the street on some idiots head while my tears froze to my face and my lungs were crushed under another’s boot. I don’t even remember what I did to provoke Mark and his friends to make my life hell for 3 months, but simply just existing was a good enough reason for most people, and because of that, they left my lying in the snow nearly butt naked just because they could.

I had never felt so utterly alone in that moment, until it became a constant feeling that never went away and haunted me until the day, the day I became a Shield agent. After that, the feeling came and went, when I felt like I had no one but myself. But now, now I think this was the first time since that day in January I realized how really alone I was, as I stared at the wall, blood still dripping from my arm.


	2. Noises

It seemed like the world was whipping by as I starred at the wall, noticing every detail, a crack here, a chip there. The world felt like it was speeding up while I faded away.

I felt empty. Like I had no purpose. At some point my arm was bandaged and my blade taken away. It might have happened just now or days ago. Time was lost to me.

Of course, Fitz would say, this wasn’t entirely possible, as time cannot be lost, but thinking of him and Simmons, and Mack and Yo-Yo made this thought too heavy to bare.

I couldn’t think of them, not here. Not when I’m in this hellhole.

The door abruptly slid open with two guards walking in, mirroring each other on the inside of the frame. Someone walked in behind them, he was dressed military style with an empty gun holster accompanying his black t-shirt. It was Ward who had strutted in behind them. I tried to stand and hold out my arm to quake the shit out of them, only to find myself tripping over myself and tumbling to the floor in a heap.

Laughing echoed around my head like an auditorium, my sliced arm burning and tearing open again.

I took a chance and glanced down, but I found no markings of my cuts. Posh leather boots so came to focus in my vision. Looking up I could see Ward’s bastard face smiling with so much pleasure it made me sick.

Crouching beside me he murmured something that my ears couldn’t quite make out. My head then started ringing, softly like bells at first, that grew louder and louder until it felt like my head was being fucking split open. The pain grew and suddenly I couldn’t think, every thought, noise and breathe felt like I was being ripped in two. Every fibre of my being, every cell was rattling me to my core. The sound crescendo and I held my head so tightly that it seemed like it would pop as easily as a pimple. I wanted to scream, to claw at my head, begging for the noise and pain to end. I longed for my empty feeling, of time escaping my grasp. God, I want this to FUCKING END! I clawed at my face and hair, pulling away chunks of blood and skin, hoping I could end this pain before it got worse, and when it seemed like my eyes would pop and my head explode, everything went eerily silent, and I was alone.


	3. Movement

I woke up to the cold darkness, drowning me in her heaviness. I could feel the searing pain of my scratches on my face and the running of blood, but somehow, I knew, that the moment my hand touched my face, there would be nothing there. Not a single scratch, scab or scar would be there, marking what had happened. Like my arm, it would be like nothing had ever happened, like I never wanted to die so badly I was ready to claw out my own brain.

“However impossible that might be” I could hear Jemma saying, “at most you would have damaged your eyes but, however irrational your brain might have been being, you would have stopped or passed out from that amount of pain”.

I chuckled at the thought, damn I missed her, I missed my family. I wanted them, as much as I didn’t want to admit to myself, hell, I needed them. I didn’t know where I was or how I got there, all I knew was I was awake, and cold, and utterly alone.

A small hiss caught my attention, pulling me from my living nightmare. I aimlessly crawled around looking for the source, only to have my body fail me and collapse. I felt paralyzed, I tried to claw my way towards the sound, but it was gone, and my hand hadn’t moved in the slightest.

Searing light entered the room blinding me, a single figured outlined in the doorway that grew bigger until one person became nine. Each armed with heavy gear, a baton and loaded guns. They moved in an effortless formation, not giving a second glance or batting an eye of acknowledgement of my presence. Every inch of my body was frozen only not from fear, I had no movement, not even a muscle twitched. I was left at the totally mercy of those who had just entered.


	4. Breathing, Hands, Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really hated how this chapter originally turned out, so I took it down and completely rewrote it. It takes the story in a different direction, but I am way happier with this. I hope you enjoy.  
> ~ Liv  
> (TW inferred child abuse and starvation, suicidal thoughts and alcoholism)

(Major Trigger Warning in this chapter for abuse, alcoholism, and thoughts of suicide)

_“Breathe, just breathe, he can’t find you here, just breathe, you are safe, you are fine, just breathe. No noise, just breathe, you can do this, just a little longer, he’ll give up soon, be small, you’re fine.”_

I’m 9, and in my 3rd foster placement in 4 months _._

_I hear a creak in the floorboard and hold my breath, I can’t move an inch, or he’ll hear me, I won’t blink, I can’t, I know he’ll hear._

_30 seconds, keep holding your breath Mary, keep holding._

_1 minute, He can’t find you if you’re not breathing._

_1 minute 13 seconds, I need air, he has to be gone by now._

_1 minute 20 seconds, I risk letting it go, slowly, carefully, I take slow quiet breaths in, I’m safe, I’m okay, I’m-_

_The closet door gets ripped open and there he is, standing, the smell hits before he does. Alcohol of whatever type, it’s so strong and so close. If I focus on the smell, if I can just focus on that, the pain only hurts a little._

_And then comes the sickening crack, and I scream._

I don’t know how he had been able to get a hold of a kid, as it turned out he had done this before. But of course, I wouldn’t know this. St. Agnes was a private Catholic orphanage, separate from the state. Meaning they could approve anyone to be a foster parent they liked.

_Tears pouring out in an endless stream, he grabs me, his hands fitting perfectly around my uppers arm. I scream harder as there is no fat on my arm to protect me from this grasp. I can feel his nails digging into my bones as he throws me around like a rag doll. I can feel my wrist throb with pain from the crack, but all I hear is the barking of him. It’s become white noise, every words seamlessly blending together into one sound. My screams and pleas become a dance as they intertwine with his. I want this to be over, I want this to end, God please let this end, I want this to end so badly._

I was 9, and didn’t know any better. I thought it was my fault. I was the reason he why he hated kids and why he drank. I was the problem, I’m always the fucking problem.

_Maybe I deserved this, maybe I deserved all of this. This was the only thought in my head as his fist came flying and the blood kept pouring._

I deserved this and everything else that came after. I was a mistake, I need to be punished, I shouldn’t exist.

_I don’t know how long this dance goes on or how may bruises appear and how many ribs break. Time becomes a standstill, it happened so fast and yet everything was moving in slow motion._

_At some point I was put in the back of the cop car, the lights and sirens filling my brain. I put my head against the cool glass, wrapping a blanket around me, all I could do was cry._

_I overhear whispered exchanges from cops and CPS. Words like “malnourished”, “horrid person”, “worst case I’ve seen”, “how could someone let this happen” before I tune out the world. I know I’m headed back for Saint Agnes, but my head is pounding to much think more about it._

_I can feel my eyelids drooping closed and my head just keeps pounding on. My body is warm and pleasant as I drift into unconsciousness._

\---

“I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be here.” I repeat this like a mantra in my head.

I was terrified, I am terrified. I can’t do anything. My body is numb.

I feel heavy, weak. I’m so tired I want to close my eyes and wake up, hoping this was all just a dream. But I don’t, my eyes don’t close, and I still can’t move.


	5. The Colonel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to every one who has been sticking around to read my story! It really means a lot and I greatly appreciate it! Here is chapter 5, I hope you enjoy!  
> ~ Liv

I’m lost in time again, memories playing like an endless loop in my head.

Betraying my team, Hive, ending the world, Hydra, My parents, and Lincoln.

My mind lingers on that last one. Lincoln. His name still makes my heart lurch and body ache.

A single tear rolls down my face, his death still weighing heavily on my mind.

I was responsible for his death. I was the reason he was dead. I am to blame.

I try and whisper his name, but it hitches, catching in the back of my throat.

I clench my hand, hating myself that I can’t even muster the courage speak his name.

A warm tingling sensation starts spreading across my body, moving around like fire.

My fingers twitch, and feeling starts coming back to my arm.

I am moving. I can move. I am no longer trapped in my own body.

Out of the side of my eye I see him, Ward.

His usually stoic face has been replaced by a smugness that makes me want to punch him. I squirm, attempting to stand and tackle him, but my movements are for waste as I’m strapped to the table I’m lying on.

The metal cuffs dig into my wrists making them ache.

Whispers begin to fill the room as my feeling of movement returns to my body. Across the room I can hear someone barking orders clearing everyone out. Ward is no longer in my sight.

“Johnson, Daisy”

Someone is calling me.

“Johnson, Daisy” it repeats, the voice closer to me this time.

Suddenly my hair is yanked backwards causing me to squeal in pain. I arch my back in attempts to lessen the searing throb from my head.

“Don’t make me repeat myself” it says, closer to my ear this time.

“Here” I wheeze, lungs still recovering from the paralysis.

“Good” It replies, drawing out the o’s, “you’re awake.”

I hear the unbuckling of the restraints before I feel them release me from their grasp.

“Up. Now” it barks.

Slowly sitting up, I can feel the stiffness of my bones and muscles, and I instinctively grab my wrists to rub the ache away from where they locked moments ago.

A man stands at the front of the bed, hands griping either side of the table where my head was just lying. He scowls at me. “Come on, Up. UP!” he continues to bark.

I cautiously slide off the table before he’s right at my side and shoves some folded fabric into my hands. He the gestures his other hand towards a door, hidden in the corner of the room.

“Dress” he orders.

I stare at him, not wanting to leave the room in fear of getting locked in, but also because I don’t trust this man and I don’t want him to disappear from my sights.

“Come on, I don’t have all day. The Doctor is waiting,”

“Who?” I reply.

The man lets an angry grunt pass through his lips and grabs my upper arm, practically lifting my left side into the air.

“WHY YOU LITTLE BI-”

“Problem Colonel?” This new voice catches me by surprise.

“No Ma’am” he says, drawing to attention.

“Good,” she replies, “ The Doctor does not appreciate tardiness.” She then turns to leave but gives me a sly wink that sends shivers down my spine.

“Yes Ma’am.” There is an unmistakeable fear masked in his voice and it lingers in his body language as the new person turns to leave. He then whips his head to look down at me, knowing I was staring and observing the whole interaction. He tightens his grip on my arm and drags me into the side room.

“Dress” he says again, as I am shoved in. Deciding I don’t like him, yet I don’t want to find out what happens when ‘The Doctor’ is mad, and more or less this Colonel and his Supervisor, I strip off my street clothes and put on the grey sweats and t-shirt I was handed earlier.

The door is then swung open by the now impatient Colonel who fills the door frame, ordering me to “get out” with the jabbing of his thumb towards the door his Supervisor came from earlier. I start walking and am lead out of the side room through the door and out of the room I had woken up in.

In the hallway, the Colonel is joined by eight other guards who flank either side of us, ensuring I have no way too escape. We continue down the hall with the Colonel leading the way. I try and keep track of each turn until my head is full and it feels like we’ve been walking in circles.

We stop and the Colonel growls, pointing to the double doors a few feet in front of me.

“He’s in there.”

I slowly step forward, only to receive a shove from behind.

“Go” he grits. Clearly a man of many words.

The doors then open up in front of me and I’m pushed inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOo, what's going to happen next? Who is 'The Doctor'? Next chapter will be posted very soon!!!


	6. The Doctor

The room is large and dark with only a desk illuminated at the end. A man who I can only assume is ‘The Doctor’ sits behind it.

The doors slam shut behind me and I’m trapped.

‘The Doctor’ looks up, “Come” he says in a sickening beckoning sweet tone.

I inch my way forward, trying to eye the dark corner of the room without taking my eyes off of him.

“Please, sit” he says.

I carefully sit in one of the two chairs that mirror each other in in front of his desk.

I felt like a 14-year-old that had been called to the principal’s office for misbehaving, and I’m terrified.

“Dr. Clement Abraham Quinntus-Gardner” he says. He reaches out his hand, but I don’t take it. His overly sweet voice sets every alarm off in my body, telling me not to trust him. He continues to hold out his hand and I continue to glare at it.

“But you may call me Dr. Abraham or Dr, Gardner or simply just Doctor will do” he continues whilst retracting his hand back to his desk.

“Where am I?” I ask.

“Ah, she does speak,” he responds, resuming his seated position.

I continued to glare at him. I wasn’t in the mood to be bullshitted and I let my face show it.

A smirk danced across his face.

“Where am I?” I repeat

“All in due time, all in due time” he answer “would you like something to eat? Or perhaps some water? I imagine you might be quite thirsty” is all he says in reply.

“Where am I!” I say with more force.

“Such a loaded yet vague question” he says, tapping his chin. “Where am I? Well, I could say you are right here, you are in the world, or here in the universe, or maybe you would like a more specific?” He shuffles to the center of the room and continues. “ Well, I could say you are in close proximity to me, about 3… no 4 feet in front of me, maybe 6 inches to my left? And from my perspective I could say you’re in front of me, but you could say I was behind you, I mean, if you were looking for accuracy in position.”

Clapping his hands, he moves to sit in the chair opposite me, but I give it a hard kick, sending it back a few feet and most importantly away from me. “Fuck you” I say.

“Ah, she does have a fire, doesn’t she. Well, if that’s the way you’d like to play, then I will happily oblige.” Is his only response.

He takes his seat behind the desk and examines my face as I stare back at his. Everything about him just screams unnatural. From his clear tanned complexation to his icy-grey eyes and blonde-blonde hair. There was a type of curiosity behind his eyes that seemed hungry. It was staring at me like they so desperately wanted to tear into my flesh and let me die. But in an instant, the look was gone, and all that was left was his piercing gaze.

Our silent staring contest was only broken when he leaned back in his chair scratching his chin and began speaking.

“Before I start answering your ever so riveting question Daisy,” he said sarcastically with a laugh. “Which, just as an FYI, is one of the most predictable and basic questions you can ask when waking up in a new place”

“I’m sorry I didn’t break into song and dance for your entertainment” I interrupt.

“No, no, while as entertaining as that might have been, you didn’t let me finish. I’m simply just saying I expected more for you, Quake.” He say’s my name, letting it role around on his tongue, making me uncomfortable. “Especially given your reputation” he then adds, like he had given it careful thought.

“sorry to disappoint” I quip back.

“I also might have expected you to quake out of here by now, or at least cracked some skulls. I must say, that when I heard that the legendary ‘Quake’ would be joining us, I did get a bit excited, given your inhuman abilities and skills, but now….” His sentence seemingly trailed off with the thought, but I knew it didn’t, and he was hoping I would bite and ask him

“But now what?” damnit, I curse in my head.

Another grin comes across to his face followed by a sad look.

“How disappointing. I thought you might be harder to crack then this.”

He then leaned down and the doors behind me open, two guards dressed in Hydra uniforms waltz in and grab me by the arms.

“Perhaps we should table this discussion for a later time” he says, sitting back down in his chair.

I feel my head start to ring again, the sensation of pounding begins to tear through my skull. I’m half-dragged and half carried out of the room.

I let myself get pulled out of the room and doors close behind me, separating and creating distance between me and ‘The Doctor’ and I’m dragged down the hall and my head drops into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know it was a little boring, but it was necessary. But at least we have now met 'The Doctor'. He is an OC villain of mine, created for this story. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. The story should start picking up from here.


	7. Boxed In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okey Dokey folks, here is the next part. I know a lot of these chapters are short, but they make more sense this way.

I’m lost in time again, only this time, I’m awake.

This room is foreign, different. It wasn’t the one I woke up in, but not the room with the cracked concrete and paralyzing gas. No, this one is new, tiled, with thick padding on each square. 12 in total on either side and 6 at both ends. Making this not a room, but a box, a shoe box, with no window and no door and no chance of escape. There was no way to tell how long I had been here or if it was even day outside, there was just one long fluorescent light that ran the length of the room that ran 24/7.

For the first bit I screamed, and ran at the walls hoping for something to happen. I tried to rip each square or find a weak point in the walls until my voice was hoarse and body blue.

“Soundproof” I eventually mumbled to myself. The room had to be, or someone would have walked in by now or tried to sedate me again or… I shuddered, I didn’t want to think what the other ‘or’s’ might be. I paced around the room, trying to get some sense of where I might have been and what this ‘shoebox’ really was.

Floor to ceiling was just padded square after padded square. I ran my fingers along each side and crack of them to see if I could find some hint of a hinge or door frame, something that might indicate there was a way out of here. But there was nothing. Damn.

I tried again to quake, like I had earlier, and when I couldn’t I felt out to see if I could feel any type of vibration or vibrational energy at all. I wanted to know so desperately that I wasn’t truly alone but there wasn’t even a murmur to be heard. All I could feel was my own heartbeat.

I plopped on to the floor, my ass hitting the padded ground with a thud. I was truly, and utterly alone. I felt so isolated, like a mental patient out of a 1950s horror movie. The whole room was so quiet, not even the light gave off a hum of electricity. The silence was so deafening that the faint sound of my own breathing was a welcome relief.

I moved to lay down on my side, using my arm as a pillow in this furniture-less room. As I did, I felt something small slightly digging into my arm.

“Fucking hell?” I said, bolting up right. I pulled my arm up to my neck and felt the familiar cool touch of an inhibitor on my fingertips.

“Blue alien bastard” I screamed to the ceiling, hoping the future alien freak could hear it.

I was I this dense not to remember I had no powers, at least none I could access at the moment.

I laid back down again, cursing at myself for not letting Fitz remove the damn thing as soon as we had gotten back to the earth I hadn’t fucking blew up.

I grimaced at the thought of me as ‘The Destroyer of Worlds’ and remembered my hesitancy to remove it after the timeline was fixed. My fear and worry about potentially blowing the world up again seemed small and stupid now, compared to the complex situation I was currently in.

My memory was foggy on the details of how I got here. I remembered Yoyo and FitzSimmons, screaming, a blast, and then things went fuzzy from there.

Sighing at myself, I laid back down again, letting the silence encompass me as I slowly pushed off the heaviness of sleep and let time pass me be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am fixing the FitzDaisy relationship because we never got a proper scene or resolution for it! Next chapter is in the works and will contain some very nice fluff. I've been writing chapters out of order because that's just how my brain works which is why updating takes so long. Anyway, I hope you all have a great weekend! <3  
> ~ Liv


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